


Here, have a riddle

by zippkat



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Humanstuck, M/M, Multi, alcohol and rampantly awful halloween parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:35:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zippkat/pseuds/zippkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humanstuck; Dave Strider has been in love with John since the dawn of time. So why doesn't he feel worse? Includes Karkat the surly bartender, a six-am Walmart bender, and door makeouts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s Saturday morning, an hour past closing time, and you’re still serving this asshole drinks. He’s a regular, and one of the very few you call ‘friend’. He’s also the subject of a several yearlong crush and very recent heartbreak- his heart, not yours, hence the alcohol.

“Dave Strider, you need to stop,” you tell him as he gestures for another beer. “You are so fuckin wasted, how are you still alive?”

“Ah’ live ah’ hard life, Kar,” he mumbles to his glass, shades askew. His Texan accent is more prominent than ever, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“Go home,” you sigh, wiping down the bar for the fifth time.

“Nah,” he says, staring at you with hazy red eyes. A crooked grin splits across his face, “Ah like it here with youuuuu.” You groan as you watch him topple from the bar stool. Peering over to make sure he didn’t break his fuckin neck, you are greeted with the highly appealing sight of Dave Strider’s spread eagle on the floor.. His shades skitter across the floor, stopping beneath a chair.

“Your ass is going to be so fucking sore, dickass,” you sigh before going around to help him up. After three failed attempts at getting him to stand by himself, you fetch his shades and finish cleaning up. It takes less than three minutes before everything’s locked up.

“Time to get you home,” you tell him, pulling Dave up and letting him lean on you. He’s surprisingly light and warm, not much different than years ago, when you were all close as a family. You miss the security of that feeling, even if all your friends were- are- assholes.

“No,” he mumbles into your neck, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Don’ wanna see ‘im…”

“Oh my god, you complete dicklord, you are not coming home with me,” you tell him, elbowing the door open. It clicks shut behind you as you two stumble out.

“Please,” he whines. His free hand trails down your front in an attempt at provocative. It fails horribly and you feel bad for the poor guy.  His eyes are framed by huge bags and if he hadn’t been up all night and possibly even crying you would assume he’s got a mild case of pink eye. He’s stupid drunk, shaky, and trying damn hard not to fall apart. You grab his hand and hold it away from you, gently tugging him in the direction his car.

“Fuck,” is all you say, when he starts to suck haltingly at your neck. “Oh fuck you, S-Strider,” you push him away, against your car, face darkening in the low lighting. Strider smirks at you, eyes still hazy.

“Come on, Kar,” he groans leaning back. His shirt rides up a few inches, exposing his pale stomach. You curse violently. “Ya can’t say ya never wanted me.”

“Hell yes I can, pissface,” you lie easily, unlocking the door and pulling him off your car. “Get in, shut the fuck up, and don’t you dare puke in my car or I swear to god I’ll call John and make him pick you up.” His mouth snaps shut, the grin disappearing like someone punched him in the gut. You wince internally, helping him into the passenger seat. You swing around to your own side and get in, snapping his seatbelt in for him. His head lolls against the window, and the whole drive he doesn’t say a word. You feel like shit.

You almost- _almost-_ take him back to the apartment he shares with John, but really, you aren’t that much of an asshole. Plus, you know for a fact that Sollux is out with Eridan and probably won’t be coming back tonight. So you go home, taking Strider with you. The second you pull up, Dave unbuckles, opens the door, and tumbles out of your car. Before you can do anything, he empties his stomach into the neighbors’ rose bush.

“Jesus Christ,” you sigh, yanking the keys out of the ignition and going to his assistance. When it seems like there’s nothing left for him to hack up, you pull him to his feet. He leans flush against you, face burrowing into your shoulder. Hands sneak around to your back, holding you in place. He is slightly taller than you, which is endearing.

“Dave…” you begin, but then he runs his hands over your ass and you push him away. “Fuck you!” you shout in his face, “I’m not your fucking rebound, fuck, keep it in your goddamn pants.”

“Shit,” he whines, slumping onto your driveway.

 “Look, I’m sorry John rejected you, alright? Unrequited love fucking sucks a whole lot, I should know, but I’m not going to be your one night fuck, got it? You’re just gonna have to suck it up for a while, until you get some new fucktoy.” He winces slightly at the mention of John, and you feel remorse going to town on your insides, but it’s not like you can take it back. Somewhere nearby, a car speeds past.

“Sorry,” he says, finally, looking down. “Shit, Kar, ‘m so fuckin sorry,” and oh hell, he better not be fucking crying, you don’t think you could handle it.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, shoosh,” you crouch in front of him awkwardly, reaching out and patting his face. He looks up at you, and thank god he’s not crying, but it’s a near thing.

Dave sniffles. You pick him up off the ground and drag him inside, praying the neighbors never find out about their roses. When you get to your room, you have to strip him down, and he’s mostly cooperative. Dave doesn’t even try to get you into bed with him, except maybe once.

You tuck him into your bed, after making him promise to shout if he needs anything, and to try not to be sick on your sheets. You’re just about to leave him when he catches your sleeve.

“Stay,” he pleads. You pull out of his grip and exit the room, bitter resentment bubbling in your throat. Half of you wants to stay with him, let him have his one night stand, because really that’s all you’re ever going to get.  The other half wants to curl up on the couch and sob. You decide both of these sides are stupid and steal Sollux’s pillows and blanket to make yourself a bed on the sofa. You shower, check in on Dave (just to make sure he’s not doing anything stupid, like dying), and make yourself dinner as the sun comes up. You have a raging headache after you finish your mac-n-cheese, but you log onto Pesterchum anyway. John’s the only one online, even though it’s fuck-all o’clock in the morning, so you decide to let him know his roommate’s alive.

**\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has begun trolling ectoBiologist [EB] ! --**

 

CG: HEY JOHN

CG: DAVES WITH ME IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING

CG: HES ALSO SUPREMELY FUCKED UP BUT HONESTLY WHEN ISNT HE

EB: oh hey karkat! thanks for watching out for him, i feel really awful about tonight!

EB: you don’t think he hates me, do you?

CG: NO ONE COULD FUCKING HATE YOU ASSWIPE

CG: LEAST OF ALL DAVE

CG: HES PROBABLY GOING TO HURT FOR A WHILE THOUGH

CG: LOVE REALLY SUCKS

EB: you can say that again.

EB: oh man, this really blows.

EB: is it mean if i hope he gets over it soon?

CG: I DON’T KNOW

CG: MAYBE

CG: PROBABLY NOT THOUGH

C: I MEAN ITS NOT LIKE YOU PURPOSEFULLY MADE HIM LOVE YOU FOR YOUR OWN PUTRID CRUELTY FETISH RIGHT?

CG: YOU MIGHT WANT TO ASK ROSE THOUGH

EB: jeeze, thanks karkat!

EB: how hard would a ‘oh no you’re the best john’ have been??

EB: seriously though I feel like shit

EB: dave’s my best friend,

EB: i don’t want shit to be awkward between us!

CG: I KNOW HOW THAT GOES

EB: oh man, you’re not thinking about grade nine are you?

CG: ...

EB: oh fuck, karkat, why’d you have to bring that up?

CG: FUCK SORRY I JUST

CG: WORK WAS AN ASS TODAY

CG: I THINK I’M GOING TO HIT THE COUCH

EB: okay, thanks for looking out for dave!

EB: I know how hard it is for you

CG: WHATEVER

CG: GOODNIGHT

**\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB] ! –**

You slump in your chair and close your laptop. It’s seven in the morning, the birds are chirping, and you are dead tired. You get up, put your dishes in the sink and promise yourself you’ll wash them tomorrow, then climb into your makeshift bed and close your eyes. Sleep comes quickly; you dream of pale white thighs and eyes as red as your own.

When you wake up at around seven, Dave’s gone. There’s a note on the table in red pen thanking you for giving him a place to sleep, and a promise to pay you back for the apple juice and ibuprofen he stole from your kitchen. Like he doesn’t know you only stock the fucking juice just for him.


	2. In which we explore the depths of Dave's supposed emotional nihilism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by popular request I'm just gunna upload the whole thing right now  
> Also Rose is a badass, even if she's not always right

**\-- turntechGodhead [TG] has begun pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] ! –**

TG: rose

TT: Dave.

TG: rose i am so fucked up right now so can we please cut the bullshit and get straight to the part where you actually help

TT: Of course, whatever you need.

TT: I am, of course, somewhat already aware of your current situation.

TG: of fucking course you are

TG: you gossip worse than

TG: actually i cant think of anything right now

TG: im hungover and hurting like someone out of final destination but without the grace of being dead and unable to feel anything

TT: I see. Things must be serious if you can’t even make up a suitably obtuse metaphor with which to mock me.

TT: Please, lie back on the couch and regale me with your troubles.

TG: fuck you lalonde

TG: the love of my life just told me hes moving in with spiderbitch and

TG: you know what im not even fucking surprised the universe just hates me that much

TT: As I heard, there was far more to it than just that.

TG: well

TG: yeah i guess

TG: shit may have gone down but the outcome is still me

TG: without him

TG: and it fucking sucks

TT: Would you like to come over? Kanaya won’t mind, and I think that a break from John would do you good.

TT: Have you talked to him since yesterday?

TG: no i went home with karkat after getting wasted

TT: I see.

TG: not like that

TG: jesus christ get your head out of the gutter

TG: i mean i wouldn’t have minded if some hanky panky went down

TG: but its obvious he doesn’t feel that way towards me or some shit

TG: guys got weird taste i mean who wouldn’t want some of this

TG: beside everyone ever i ever wanted

TG: whatever

TT: You are so obtuse; sometimes I wonder how you manage to function in everyday life.

TG: fuck you lalonde

TG: i expect some grade a chocolate and bad movies when i get over there in exchange for putting up with you

TT: Why of course. Nothing but the best for my favourite brother.

 

**\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]! –**

TG: im telling dirk you said that

 

 

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are getting a makeover.

Slumped on Rose’s couch, somewhere in a condo in the middle of the city, you allow flighty broads to play with your hair and fuss at your clothes. This is perfectly acceptable, as you have been bribed with chocolate smores later on. Normally, you wouldn’t even need bribery- there’s something deliciously ironic about the whole business, and you like to make a grand production of it, complete with commemoratory high-angled facebook photos.

Tonight, you are too tired for it all. So you let your half sister and her dark fashionista goddess try to cheer you up by watching shitty sci-fi movies. You’d tried to convince them to watch Disney Channel originals, but Rose couldn’t be swayed. Apparently the Sci-Fi channel played all the best B movies before Halloween.  You’ll have to watch Lindsey Lohan and Lindsey Lohan set up their parents some other night.

“Lift up your chin, please,” Kanaya commands and you follow her guide and lift your chin. She adjusts your collar while a huge pink spider devours people on screen. Apparently Dirk is supposed to drop by, to witness your sorry state, and you half wish he wouldn’t. All you want is to crawl into your room and mess with you turntables for a few days, until you’re forced to come out for food, but apparently that’s “not a healthy way of coping, Dave.”

“How’re you feeling?”Rose asks, perched on the back of the couch. A disembodied leg flies up and “hits” the camera, spattering the lense with fake blood. It’s so bad, you want to laugh.

“Like shit,” you reply, and it goes to commercial break.

“Would you like some ice cream?” Kanaya asks, her slender fingers pausing in their studious attempt at mussing your hair. You look up at her through your shades.

“Please?” you nod slightly, making sure she can see you fluttering your eyelashes at her. She smiles and gets up, sashaying into the kitchen. You watch Rose watch her go. They’re so in love it’s disgusting.

“You know,” says Rose, “It’s okay to be upset.”

“I’m not upset,” you say. “It’s Egbert’s own fault if he don’t want some this,” you tap your chest for emphasis. You are highly surprised to find that saying his name causes no painful reaction whatsoever. You are also slightly ashamed- he was the love of your fucking life, the source of nearly every waking moment, and you barely even care now. Sure, it was a shock, and it was _embarrassing_ , but not anymore than Terezi gently telling you that she had already been asked and was going to senior prom with someone else. If anything, you’re just tired; emotional theatrics are the worst.

“You are miserable and you know it.” She reprimands you primly, tapping you on the nose.  “You’ve been head over heels for John since high school. It’s only natural that you feel upset by his rejection.”

“Because I’m such a stranger to rejection, right?” you grumble, jerking away. Rose sighs, sliding down and giving you a one armed hug. You appreciate the fuck out of her, even if you’ll never say. You lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Kanaya comes out with a tub of mint chocolate chip and three spoons. You consider creating a mix about a flawless goddess bearing Ben-and-Jerrys. It’s definitely something to consider; you could lace in some of the tracks from the greatest pick-me-up movies and call it “Heartbreak”. Your web following would probably adore it; maybe Tavros would be interested in helping you out.

“I heard,” Kanaya says delicately, sinking onto the couch just as the movie comes back from commercial. She leaves your hair alone this time and sinks against your side, passing you the ice cream and two spoons. You hand one to Rose and thoughtfully dig your own into the ice cream. “That the next group get-together is going to be Halloween themed.”

“Oh, wonderful,” you sigh. “Whose turn is it again?”

“Sollux and Karkat’s, I believe.” Rose says, taking the bite you were about to scoop up.

“I think I have the perfect outfit for you, Rose,” Kanaya gushes. “It’s from my grimdark line; I believe you’ll love it.” Rose blushes faintly, and on her it looks perfect. There are a lot of things about her like that.

“Karkat?” you ask, dumbly, something squirming in your brain. An image of dark skin and wide eyes and an even wider mouth, usually set in a scowl, presents itself to you. Your stomach dips. Fuck.

“Yes, Dave, _Karkat,_ our token loudmouth,” Rose repeats pleasantly, the blush fading.

“Right,” you say, feeling completely stupid.

“Hello?” Someone opens the door, and you know your brother is in.

“We’re on the couch,” Rose calls. You fix your gaze on the television, studying the way the spider artfully rips into another safari goer.

“Hey, Dave,” Dirk calls out when he walks in, almost too casually.

“Sup,” you return, stiffening an infinitesimal amount. Rose squeezes your hand and Dirk sits on the arm rest at the end of the couch. Another idea for a song title pops into your head. You could make it a sort of tribute to Shel Silverstein. Ideas buzz around your head while you watch the movie in silence, mechanically taking spoonfuls of the ice cream.

When you were six, Dirk told you that the way you obviously emulate Bro, the man who raised you both, is a show at how desperate for attention you really were. He was eleven. You had thrown a chair at his head.

When you were ten, he told you that your attachment to John Egbert was a projection of your wish to express yourself without the fear of judgment and rejection. You challenged him to a strife and was carless enough to nearly impale yourself on his shitty sword; you still have the scar.

After the summer camp incident, he swore up and down that he’d never let anything like that happen to you again. He ruffled your hair and told you you’d done perfectly, that you were worthy of the name Strider. He and Bro had both been proud, if a bit clingy, after that.

Then, when Bro died, Dirk didn’t say a word. He left you with Rose, Roxy, and their mom and went off by himself. Sometimes you hate him for that.

When the movie ends, Kanaya and Rose make their excuses and depart to the kitchen. If they’re making out while you have to talk to your brother, you’re going to egg their house come Halloween night.

“So, you here to gloat?” You ask him, completely deadpan, like Bro taught you to be.

“No,” says Dirk, frowning. “I thought I’d offer my condolences. I know how much he meant to you.” You relax slightly, and hope he doesn’t notice. “Although, your confession wasn’t really appropriately timed, I gather…”

Ah. There it is- the inevitable criticism.

“Wow, no one fucking asked you,” you say, barely inflecting. The credits are rolling on screen; a small window in the corner informs the viewer that _Sharktopus_ is up next. It looks promising.

“Dave, I just-”

“Whatever, Dirk.” You cut him off, anger beginning to simmer in your gut. He is silent. You wonder why Rose bothered to invite him over. You wonder if they’ll let you camp out on their couch.

“I’m sorry,” Dirk says, eventually, just as you start to wonder where Rose and Kanaya have gotten off to. “I understand your hesitance to return to your apartment; if you want, you can stay with me. Jake and Aranea are out on business, so you could have my room if you wanted.”

“And why,” you finally turn, looking over your shades at Dirk, “the hell, would I want to stay with you?”

He flinches, and you feel grimly satisfied.

“Just thought I’d offer,” he tries to shrug it off, slipping off he couch.

Rose and Kanaya swing back in after that, and you notice that Rose’s lips are slightly swollen. Yep, you are definitely going to egg this place. You might not even wait for Halloween. Dirk exchanges pleasantries with them, then departs. The moment he walks out the door, Rose turns to glare at you.

“What did you say to him?” She demands. You shrug; she jabs you hard in the side and you flinch away.

“Ow- fuck- what-“

“Go after him!” She demands, pushing you off the couch. You land in a heap on the expensive rug.

“Why the hell should I?” you snap back, scowling at her.

“Because,” she growls, and Kanaya shifts uncomfortably. “He misses you just as much as you miss him, now go,” and she makes a move to stand.

“Alright, alright,” you stumble to your feet, grabbing your coat on your way out. “Don’t wait up,” you call back, and you make sure you slam the door as you go. You are completely surprised to find that Dirk hasn’t moved past the bottom of the steps. When you open the door, he looks over, shades in one hand.

He looks like he’s trying very hard not to cry. Your stomach drops out and feel like the very worst person to ever walk the earth.

“Shit,” he says, turning away quickly. You shove your hands into your pockets and walk down to stand next to him. You’re silent for a few minutes, letting his sniff slightly and get himself under control; you only open your mouth after he slides on his shades.

“You alright?” You ask, lamely. Dirk laughs, and doesn’t answer. You don’t blame him; it really was a stupid question.

“Do you hate me?” he asks. You have to think about it for a few seconds.

“No,” you tell him, leaning against his shoulder. He’s about an inch taller than you.

“I miss Bro,” he says, and you smile slightly.

“Me too,” you tell him. “I miss you, too, you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Of course.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry

= =>Be Karkat

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are not at all upset.

“Tho,” says Sollux, when he swaggers in at around six PM. He has the messy hair and attitude of someone who spent the last twenty four hours getting fucked into the mattress. You are decidedly not jealous.

“So,” you return, cradling a mug of coffee; you have work in five hours. Sollux eyes you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I heard from TZ that you took Thtrider home latht night,” Your housemate says, referring to your best friend and fellow bartender.

“Bitch,” you grumble, “nothing happened. He was drunk off his mind and didn’t want to see his roommate. No big deal.”

“Oh, no wonder you’re tho grumpy today,” Sollux rolls his eyes and digs around the fridge. You have saved him some leftover pizza, although you don’t know why. He was probably eating over at Ampora’s. You shudder at images this thought brings with it. “No hot douchebag for Vantath.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lispboy.” Even by your standards, it’s a poor insult.

“Though,” he continues as though you hadn’t spoken, “I did hear about hith drama with the Egderp. Thomething about Vrithka and John becoming offithial?”

“Yeah, something like that. Apparently Dave picked the worst time ever to confess.” You both take a moment, Sollux right beside the microwave, to sigh over your friends. Ever since an accident at summer camp, right after the seventh grade, you’ve all be close. There’s nothing like a fight for your lives to bring people together.

“Man, that thuckth.” Sollux pops his pizza into the microwave and leans against the counter, studying you. You side-eye him from your perch on the opposite counter. “On the other hand, now maybe he’ll open hith eyeth to new pothibilitieth.”

“Yeah fucking right,” you gripe, finishing your coffee with one violent motion. You get started on the dishes from the previous night.

“You know, it’th going to be our turn to hotht the party next weekend,” he reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. Every three weeks o so, your group gets together for a weekend in order to stay close, now that you’re all “adults”. As Sollux has so helpfully reminded you, it’s your turn.

“Fuck,” you say to the plate you’re scrubbing. It doesn’t reply; it’s a plate.

“Come on KK, it’ll be fun,” Sollux chastises you, waving a slice of pizza in your direction. You ignore him.

“Yeah right, you hate these things even more than me,” you accuse. “Last time you got so drunk you punched Equius in the face and made out with him under the stairs.”

“How do you-“

“ _Everyone could hear you, fuckface.”_ You glance behind you to watch his face turn red.

“Whatever,” he brushes it off. “The point ith, it’th amotht Halloween.”

“So?”

“Tho, we need to get thome thit! AA thaid the’ll help uth, if we need it. Come on, KK, let’th build a haunted houthe.” He comes to stand next to you, taking the plate from your hand and drying it.

“You just want to scare the pants off Fins,” you say, and he leers at you. It’s highly disconcerting.

“Tho ith that a yeth?” he asks, taking the last dish. You wipe your hands on your jeans and shrug.

“Why the fuck not? It’s not like it could be any worse than the last one.” If you recall correctly, Terezi and Tavros had started making out in the punch bowl. Vriska did not like this. No one liked it. There was a hazy bout of screaming and a brawl. You only really remember the part where John elbowed you in the eye; you still have a faint bruise from that night.

“Yeah,” Sollux chuckles, and you depart to surf the net. A few hours later, you go to work. Dave isn’t there, but you manage to get a few pointed statements in Terezi’s general direction about gossiping with certain nerds. She licks your face and promises that she has in no way been fraternizing with Mr. Appleberry Blast. You don’t believe her; as a lawyer in training, not much that comes out of her mouth is reliable.

After work, you, Sollux, Aradia, and Terezi go out to Denny’s. You’re regulars there, and the waitress greets you all by name.

“The usual?” she asks, much too cheerful for five in the morning. Your group murmurs assent, and Ms. Paint bustles away.

“So,” Terezi begins, slamming her palms down on the table. You flinch, even though the only ones in the restaurant beside the staff are you four. “Are you doing this? _Are we making this happen?”_

“Pleathe, TZ, never uthe that meme again,” Sollux groans. Aradia puts an arm around him, grinning fervently.

“Yep, we’re making it happen!” she chirps, much to Sollux’s annoyance. You glare at them, nursing the coffee Ms. Paint sets down before you and contemplating murder. The music was especially obnoxious at the bar, rowdy for a fucking _Sunday,_ and you have a headache the size of a planet.  Not to mention that you haven’t heard from Dave since his note and you’re maybe not really kind of worried.

“You alright, Karkles?” Tereze’s voice jerks you back into awareness, and you realize you’ve been glaring into your coffee for the past ten minutes.

“I’m fucking tired as fuck,” you grumble.

“KK’th on hith manperiod,” Sollux whispers to her, loud enough so you can hear it.

“Fuck you twice with a rusty spoon covered in diarrhea,” you snarl, just as Ms. Paint arrives with your food. The others laugh while you stammer apologies, but she just waves you off. Ms. Paint is simply the best.

“Tho, when doeth Party Thity even open?”

“Nine thirty,” Aradia replies, and you all look at her. “What?” she asks, tugging at one of her curls and surreptitiously taking a bite of pancake. You continue to stare at her. “Iff on their webfite,” she explains, holding up her phone.

“Oh,” Terezi says, sounding mildly disappointed.

“So, I suggest we stop by Wal-Mart instead!” Aradia continues, swallowing. “Their shit is cheap, and there’s just so much of it! I guess you could say they’re Hallowready!”

“AA-” Sollux starts, sounding worried.  Aradia flaps her hand at him.

“It’s five in the morning, cut me some slack!” She laughs easily. Terezi destroys an omelet in a way that might be fascinating if it weren’t so terrifying.  

“I just don’t see,” you say, spitting the words out with much more force than they deserve. “Why we’re going party shopping _now_.”

“Because,” Terezi slurps, grinning at you from across the table. Your insides shrivel at the sight of bacon bits caught between her teeth. “I fuckin _said so.”_ And she turns back to her omelet. You are simultaneously aroused and terrified. It’s not a good feeling.

Half an hour later, the four of you stand outside a twenty-four-hour Wal-Mart.

“Why,” is the only thing you can say.

“God bless us all, everyone,” Terezi intones and drags you in. Sollux and Aradia cackle in harmony and you fear for your life.

One of the few constant facts of the universe is everything is much funnier at six in the morning. The employees glare daggers at you when Aradia pushes Sollux into a pre-opened banana costume. Terezi takes to carrying one of the fake skeletons around her shoulders; she also shoves every single hat in every aisle she can find onto your head. It is the hardest challenge of your life so far to keep them from falling. Photos are taken for posterity’s sake, Sollux has to be physically dragged away from the bee costume, and somehow you manage to find anything you could possibly need and some things you don’t.

“What is it?” You ask Terezi the next afternoon. Since it was your house they were meant to be decorating, it had only seemed natural to end the night in a pile on the couch. You think. At some point booze had become involved, and the only thing you can remember is having cheez-wiz sprayed into your mouth and freaking out because you thought it was silly string. That shit can be deadly; you saw a post about it on Tumblr once.

“You know, I have no fucking clue,” Terezi takes the object from you, spread out on the couch above you. “Ooh, but it feels nice!” She laughs and tosses it at Sollux, who’s sleeping across your legs. He grows quietly in his sleep and flips her the bird. Aradia is already in the kitchen, making coffee or something. God, you hope she’s making coffee. No one is wearing a shirt.

“Soo, how’s it look?” Terezi asks, and you look around. For the work of four deranged and drunk brainless assfucks, it doesn’t look too bad. There are bats, fake cobwebs, and orange and black everywhere. If you remember correctly, there’s a punch bowl and seven bags of candy stashed in one of the cupboards.  You weren’t going to decorate, but after the booze had come out there really wasn’t any question of it. The only hard part will be not accidently scaring yourself shitless or ruining things before the next weekend.

“Like four drunken assholes tried to decorate,” you tell her, grinning despite yourself. You shove Sollux off and stretch, enjoying the appreciative glance Sollux gives your abs, when he cracks an eye open.

“Good,” Terezi joins you in your shamble to the kitchen, where Aradia is waiting with sandwiches and hot beverages. You could kiss her, but Terezi beats you too it. Her bra is a stark turquoise, which for some reason looks very aesthetically pleasing against Aradia’s rust red. You wonder if they planned this.

You end up spending a very enjoyable day with your four friends, in various states of undress. You also try very hard not to think about Dave during this time; you fail miserably.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry

= = > Can we just fast forward to the party?

I literally almost inserted another two chapters you fuck. But writing is _hard_ and plot dictates we skip.

I hope you’re fucking happy.

= = > Be naked Dave Strider.

You are a naked Dave Strider. You are always a naked Dave Strider, under your clothes, which you happen to be wearing at the moment (sorry to disappoint.) You have arrived at Casa de Nerds with your older brother. You are dressed as each other, and it was a fucking brilliant idea no matter what anyone says.

Rose meets you on the walkway, dressed like a fairy. She is absolutely stunning, all dark silk and glowing pale skin.

“Hello, Dave, Dirk,” she greets you, a knowing light in her eyes. You nod to her, careful not to knock off Dirk’s shades. “It seems that someone egged our house earlier this week; would you happen to know anything about that?”

“Not a thing,” you shrug, just as Kanaya appears. She is equally as stunning as your sister, in the opposite colour scheme. Her silk is white and pure; her skin as dark as sin. They make a beautiful couple.

“May we escort you fine ladies to the party?” Dirk asks, extending his arm to Kanaya.

“Of course,” she says, grinning. Rose takes your arm and the four you walk up the driveway. The illusion of grandeur is shattered the moment you knock on the door, however. Vriska answers, laughing madly. She’s a pirate, of course, her familiar blue coat swishing wildly as she hugs you all in turn.

“Welcome to the par-tay!” She greets you, shoving a beer into your hand.

“Not bad, spider-sister,” You nod to her, not drinking it. A part of you wants to be bitter, to hate her, but you grudgingly acknowledge that she’s a much better match for Egbert than you are. Though you’d never say as much out loud; their compatible derpiness is something people write epics about. You are grudgingly supportive, if still heartbroken.  “Is John around?” you ask, feigning casual, as you file walk inside. You’re careful not to look at any of your fellows; you can feel Lalonde’s stare searing into your soul.

Captor and Vantas had really out done themselves – it was only slightly lame. You set the beer on a bookshelf and hope no one notices. You don’t feel like drinking tonight; the memory of your last hangover is still prominent enough to keep you from indulging.

“I think he’s in the kitchen,” Vriska shrugs, putting an arm around your shoulders. She’s tense, and you wonder how much John told her about what happened.

“Cool,” you say, while walking into the living room. The music is loud; you recognize it was one of your own mixes that you’d given to Karkat, and you can’t hold back a small grin that could easily be taken as a smirk.

“Hey cool kid!” Terezi waves, upside down on the couch, which has been shoved against the far wall. She rolls over and leaps to her feet, barely teetering.

“Where’s your costume?” Aradia, a bellydancer, asks, peering at you and Dirk.

“I’m in it,” you tell her, breaking away from Vriska and the others to greet Terezi.

“Holy shit, that’s awesome!” Terezi cackles, her hands doing a quick overview of your costume.

“Don’t smudge the shades,” you warn, wrapping her into a hug. She grins into your shoulder, then pulls away to sashay over to Rose. You watch her go, sliding your hands into your pockets and taking a minute to enjoy the music.

Lejion, who was sitting next to her, laughs and sits up as well. Equius is propping up the wall with his massive shoulder blades, dressed as a ninja. You have a sneaking suspicion that Nepeta, who appears to be a smaller ninja, had everything to do with this.

“Are we all here now who could make it?” Vantas emerging from the kitchen covered by some white powder that you hope is flour, not powdered sugar. Surreptitiously, he licks some off his finger; nope, powdered sugar, Jesus Christ. There’s quite a lot of his cinnamon skin showing, and you’re mildly stumped to what his costume is supposed to be; his only attire is white-tan pants. It is undeniably attractive, and a weird feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Yep!” Feferi chirps, entering the room, accompanied by Jade, Jane, and Roxy. They’re a trio of ghosts and a ghostbuster-

“Holy shit, Jade,” John’s unmistakable voice breaks out, and you turn from your spot on the couch to look at him. He’s wearing a toga and a circlet of leaves. Dionysus? “That is so fucking cool, oh my god, did you make it yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?” He gushes over her costume and she laughs, sweeping him into a hug.  Vantas sidles over to you, glaring in disgust at the people in his home.

“Sup,” you greet him, nodding slightly.

“Hello, Assface MacDouchefuck, you’re looking even more ridiculous than usual,” Karkat says by way of greeting. His gaze sweeps you up and down, and you feel an odd heat creep up your neck. Are you blushing? Are you, Dave Motherfucking Strider, fucking _blushing?_

_“_ And what are you supposed to be?” you are so thankful it’s too dark for him to see face clearly.

He runs a hand through his hair, looking away. “It was Sollux’s idea...”

“Well?” you prompt, jabbing him in the shoulder. He scowls at you, teeth bared.

“I’m a fucking fudgesicle,” he mutters, and you grin wider.

“I bet you’re delicious,” you tease before registering your own words. Karkat snickers, and after a minute you join him. Even by your standards, that had been pretty lame.

“Sorry bro, that was awful,” you say, studying him behind the safety of Dirk’s shades. “Does it have a joke on the back?”

“Hell yes,” he says, and turns around. On his ass printed in grey letters is “BITE ME”. You snort, and immediately try to cover it up. Vantas seems pleased by your reaction, turning around and grinning fiercely.

Just then, as the music dies down and prepares for the next song, the doorbell rings. The party seems to freeze, everyone looking at each other. Everyone who said they’d be here is here, excluding Eridan and Sollux, but you’re pretty sure they’re upstairs fucking or something. Karkat blinks, then stomps through the room to the entrance hallway. You all flock around him peering over each other as he reaches the door. Karkat throws the door open- and you gasp.

“Hey, motherfucker,” Gamzee Makara grins cheekily, looking the same as he’s always looked. “I was in town and though I’d stop by- didn’t know there was a wicked _party_ goin on, that’s-“

“Fuck you,” Karkat stutters, nearly tackling him in a hug. Most of the others surge around him, shooting questions and welcomes. Gamzee’s been on the road, traveling with his band, and hasn’t been seen for about a year. Occasionally, Karkat gets postcards addressed to all of you, but it wasn’t the same as having your best friend with you. You hang back and let the others do their thing; you’ve never been especially close to Makara, and find John standing next you.

“Hey, Dave!” John grins at you, slightly hesitant.

“Sup, Egbert,” you nod to him. You feel suddenly nervous. “Rockin the toga, I see.”

“Haha, yeah, Vriska helped me with it,” he runs a hand through is hair, searching your face for- something, you don’t know. “How are you, uh, feeling?” he asks.

You look around, maybe for escape, maybe just to gather your thoughts. Everyone’s either clustered around the door or back in living room.

“I’m good, John, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, surprised to find that you’re not lying. He nods, eyes narrowing.

“That’s what I thought, honestly,” he says, shrugging. You blink at him.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean,” he flushes a slight red. You stare at him. “I kinda thought, well, you didn’t really seem to be in love with me? More like the idea of me?”

“What?”

“Like- I mean, I guess I can’t compare you to Vriska, but when I get out of the shower you never looked at me? Like, I mean, sometimes you’d look at my ass- yeah that’s right, I saw you- but never really at me?”

“Oh,” you say, and it makes sense, as much as you don’t want to hear this.

“Please don’t be mad!” John says, covering his mouth with his hands. “I just miss you a lot as a bro and I wish you’d come back to the apartment, because I’m going miss you so much when I move in with Vriska, and please don’t be mad at me anymore!”

You notice a slight slurring to his words and grin. Drunk John is the silliest John.

“Calm your tits, Egbert, I’m not mad,” you assure him.

“Good,” he grins a bucktoothed smile and throws his arms around you, stumbling. You catch him and hug back for a second, then gently untangle yourself.

“Let’s head back to the party,” you tell him, adjusting his leaves. You head back to the party. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut time  
> I'm sorry again

= = > Be Karkat

You are Karkat Vantas, and there is absolutely nothing that could ruin your night. One of your best friends is back, in your arms, and you’re having a fuckin party. And Dave Strider called you delicious.

You eventually find your way back to the main room, just as Eridan and Sollux make an appearance.

“What are you two dressed as, Fucktoy and Cumslut?” You snicker, watching them both turn several shades darker.

“Fuck you Kar,” Eridan glares at you. You laugh, sandwiched between Terezi and Gamzee, the music pounding through your head.

“Hey, aren’t we going to go bobbing for apples?” Vriska shouts, raising her fake sword and vaulting onto your coffee table. “Fetch the basin! And the vodka!”

“Oh god,” you groan, as Aradia and Jade go to do as she said. “This can’t end well.” Gamzee laughs and ruffles your hair.

“It’ll be fine, brother, though I won’t tell a soul if you wanna abscond before our wicked Spiderbitch gets it in her mind to free herself of her shirt.”

“In that case, do you want anything from the kitchen?”

Vriska has begun to unbutton her top.

“Nah, brother, I’m good.”

You abscond just as the shirt flies off, soaring toward you. You manage to dodge it and seek safety beside the fridge, then freeze. Apparently, you weren’t the only one who decided to scurry to safety. Dave is sitting on one of the counters, drinking something out of a bottle.

“Hey, Mr. Ice cream,” he nods to you, patting the counter next to him. You hop up beside him, sitting knee to knee.

“Enjoying yourself?” You ask, wrly.

“Kind of; ran into John when the juggalo showed up, so I’ve been thinkin,” he shrugs, and then takes a swig of whatever it is.

“Beer?” you ask, gesturing to it. You feel exposed without your customary long-sleeved shirt and hoodie.

“Naw, apple juice,” he offers it to you. Suspicious, you take it and drink. It is definitely apple juice.

“That’s either adorable, or really fucking sad,” you hand it back. Dave grins a bit, taking it.

“John said I never really loved him,” he continues. You raise a single eyebrow.

“ _Ouch.”_ He shrugs.

“Not really, I think he was right. But whatever, what’s done is done,” he takes another drink of apple juice. You watch him, studying the way his arms move when he lifts the bottle.

“Karkat?” he puts it down, turning to you. Your heartbeat picks up.

“Mmm?” You say, trying and failing not to look at his lips, which are so close to yours. You can feel your face heat up. He slides off his brother’s shades, and you watch him study you.

“Kiss me?” he asks, and your stomach drops out.

“What?” you say, voice going embarrassingly high, but it doesn’t matter because he kisses you. He kisses you soft, barely moving. A hand combs through your hair, pulling you closer. Your eyes are wide with shock, but his are closed so it doesn’t matter. You could count the freckles on his nose.

Dave pulls back an inch, separating but staying close. His thumb strokes your jaw, and he stares at you.

_-This isn’t happening, he’s just rebounding, this doesn’t mean anything, you’ll regret it forever if you sleep with him, you might die if you don’t-_

You kiss him back, a lot rougher than he kissed you. Your lips slide over his, tongue tracing an invitation on his bottom lip. He accepts, opening and pressing inside, his tongue sliding over your own. You moan, gripping him by the hair. With a small noise, he pulls at your thigh and hauls you into his lap. You can feel him grow hard beneath you, hands stroking your back and palming your ass. You arch into him, tongue fucking his mouth, so tired of holding back. Then a piercing shriek of laughter makes you both jump and Dave hits his head on the cupboard.

“Fuck, fuck, sorry, shit,” you swear, leaning back so he can lean forward.

“Shit, it’s fine.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his head.  “Mind if we take this somewhere more private?”

You hesitate; on one hand, you’re horny as hell and your crush of several years is practically palming you through your jeans already. On the other, it’s going to hurt like fuck when he leave, because of course he’s going to leave, why the fuck would he stay? This is just a hook up, you remind yourself, absentmindedly dragging your fingers up and down Dave’s thighs. He shudders under you, biting down on his lip to keep from moaning. You can feel his dick pressing up against your ass and you say to hell with the future.

“Yeah, let’s,” you slide off, trying not to be too obvious about staring at the lump in his jeans. Dave smirks at you, hopping off the counter.

“After you,” he says, bending down to whisper it in your ear. As far as cheesy statements go, that was a seven, but it works. You lead the way to your room, stopping every few seconds to make sure he’s real by shoving your tongue into his mouth. He doesn’t seem to mind, although you almost make him fall down the stairs. When you finally get to your room, he pushes you inside and slams the door.

“Shirt,” you hiss, pulling at it, and he practically rips it off; you hope Dirk doesn’t mind. He pulls you into him, leaning against the door. His mouth is hot and alive beneath yours; a knee slides between your legs, pressing your dick against his leg. It takes all of your self control not to hump it like a dog. You groan into him instead, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulling down.

“Fuck,” he says, pulling away. “Ow, fuck, my jeans-” he unbuttons them swiftly, allowing you to pull them the rest of the way down, along with his boxers. He steps out of them and you undo your own, shucking them quickly. You watch each other for a moment, your gaze lingering on his cock. Then he’s pushing you up against the door and sucking at your neck. Dave’s hands roam down your body and his hips roll against yours. You groan, digging your nails into his back and arching into him. You can feel his cock jump against your abdomen, and you shudder.

“Fuck, Dave,” you moan, panting like a whore. “Can I fuck you, or you fuck me, or fucking something, fuck,” he laughs against your shoulder, nipping where there’s probably a hickey.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. You push him back, kissing him hard, walking him to your bed. You push him back onto it, crawling into his lap. He bucks into you, hands automatically going to hold your hips. You rock against him, still kissing him messily.

“Lube?” Dave asks into your mouth. You pause for a moment, to catch your breath.

“The drawer,” you gesture at it, before Dave grabs your hips and flips you both, landing on top of you and digging around in the drawer. You get lost for a moment in the rocking of his hips, palming his ass and sucking at his collarbone. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, but you ignore it.

“Fuck, Karkat,” Dave moans, pulling out a condom and a bottle of lube. You bite, just to see how he reacts, and he fucking stutters.

“Jesus, stop for ah’ s-second,” he pants, ripping the condom open with his teeth (you wonder if he practiced.) You watch him roll it on and take a hold of the lube, squeezing some out onto your fingers.

“Is this alright?” you ask, stroking him.

“Y-yeah,” he groans, nails digging into your ass. You shudder, fighting not to stroke yourself. Your brain is hazy and filled with the scent and feel of Dave.

When he’s good and slicked, you lift your hips and press a finger into your opening, watching him watch you.

“Karkat-” he says, but never gets any further. You slide in another finger, biting your bottom lip in concentration. Dave strokes your hips, always just a few inches from your cock. You stretch yourself under his gaze, nearly coming twice. Heat coils in your stomach, so tight it almost hurts.

“Okay,” you finally pant, pulling your fingers out. “Fuck me, damn it.”

Dave doesn’t need to be asked twice; he positions himself and pushes in slowly. Your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets, bracing yourself. He pauses and continues when you tell him too, until your ass meets the front of his hips. You pull his head down so you can suck on his earlobe.

“Come on Dave,” you growl, and he does. Pulling out almost completely, then slamming back in. You gasp, and he sets a pace. You adjust quickly and push up to meet him, fucking to the faint rhythm of music and the creak of the mattress.

Dave moans your name in your ear, burying his hands in your hair. You stutter out of rhythm, then renew with added vigor.

“I’m going to fucking co-” you groan, and a hand slips between your bodies and takes hold of your dick, pumping you frantically. With a strangled cry, you come, tightening around Dave. He gasps and presses in deep, rolling his hips against you franticly. You dig your nails into his ass and bite down hard on his shoulder, and he comes as well.

Dave collapses beside you, panting. You both take a few minutes to catch your breath.

“Oh,” you say. “Okay then.” He laughs. You are really tired, but the party’s still going on. You debate never getting out of bed again. You debate keeping Dave here with you.

“That was certainly something,” Dave agrees. “I’m pretty sure you bruised the fuck out of my neck though.”

“Sorry?”

“Nah, don’t be.”

You stare up at the ceiling, pressed against his side, and wish you got to keep him.

“Now what?” you ask.

“Well,” says Dave, “we could make out some more.”

“Fuck you, Strider,” You snarl, pushing him away. He laughs.

“If you insist, I could go for that too.” He smirks, catching your arm and pulling you into him.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumble into his shoulder, shyly putting your arms around him. Dave chuckles, stroking your hair. He smells like sweat, sex, and the cologne he wears; you try to breathe it in without him noticing. You’re heart aches and you wish he’d stay here for at least a few more minutes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end  
> I may never not be sorry  
> this is awful and dumb just like me

==> Be Dave Strider

It’s truly amazing how perfectly Karkat fits in your arms. He’s warm and solid, breathing softly against your shoulder.

Your leg starts to cramp, and you shift slightly. Karkat’s arms tighten imperceptibly, and you pause. Something Lalonde had said to you about a week ago comes back to you.

“Hey, Karkles?” You say into the darkness and his arms loosen.

“What?” He asks, a slight edge to his voice.

“Are you in love with me?” you reply, making sure to keep your voice even. He stiffens, and then tries to pull away. You hold him to you, making a warning noise.

“Maybe,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“How long?”

“…”

“Karkat,” you roll him onto his back, pinning him there with your body. He glares at you, face darker than usual.

“…A year, maybe two,” he looks away, ashamed. You can’t help it; you lean forward and kiss his nose. Karkat squawks, but you just keep planting small kisses all over his face.

“What-” he tries to say, but you kiss his mouth to shut him up.

“Hush,” you say into his mouth, in case he didn’t get the message. He squirms for a moment, then relaxes into the kiss. You stroke his jaw, and the pressure of his hands around your waist is awfully comforting.

“Does that mean you’re staying?” he asks, when you pause for breath.

“Maybe,” you quip, smirking. Abruptly, he pushes you off, sending you flailing off the bed and onto the floor. “Okay, how about yes?”

“You-”

“For a long time, if you’ll have me.” You watch different emotions – surprise, hope, and something softer- lit across his face.

“You are a horrible person, fuckwit,” he growls, glaring down at you.

“You love it,” you grin, pushing yourself into a sitting position. Karkat throws a pillow at you, and then another, and another. You catch every single one, much to his annoyance. When the pillows are gone, he grabs the blanket, wraps himself in it, and falls onto you.

“Ow,” you hiss, his knee digging into your thigh. After much wriggling and many curses, you lay onto of the pillows and Karkat lies on top of you.

“You are the scum of the earth,” he growls into your ear. You ‘mm’ in reply, listening to the thump of the bass downstairs. You’re pretty sure they’ve all crashed by now, and are crumpled in various piles on the couch and surrounding floor. You’re glad you’ve got Karkat all to yourself.

“I mean it!” Karkat continues. “You are a jizz guzzling dumb fuck plagued with every mental malady in creation, and I hope you die in a painful and embarrassing way,” you nuzzle his neck, closing your eyes. 

You fall asleep that way, with his whispering insults into your air and your feet sticking out.

When you wake up, you’re sore and cold, but you don’t mind. Karkat’s still curled in your arms, breathing slowly. Daylight pours in and casts shadows across his face; you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything quite as beautiful. Except maybe a brand new set of turntables, but hell, that’s hard to rival.

You sit up, and Karkat tumbles into your lap with a disgruntled snort.

“Rise and shine, Karitten,” you pinch his cheek. Karkat snarls, slapping your hand away and sitting up. His hair is a mess; the resemblance to a dandelion is stunning.

“Fuck you,” he growls, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. You laugh and get to your feet.

“Maybe after breakfast,” you say, sashaying across the room to where you left your pants. You can feel his eyes on you the whole way, and hope he doesn’t see the blush that spreads up your neck. The clock on the desk to your left reads eight AM. 

“Why?” he asks, simply. You turn around and your will almost dissolves. He’s still wrapped in the blanket, staring up at you with wide eyes.

“Because someone’s gotta run damage control,” you tell him, completely deadpan. You will not be defeated by bambi eyes.  “Also, breakfast.” You throw his pants at him, smirking. “Come on.”

“Fuckin fuck fuck,” Karkat grumbles under his breath while getting dressed. You grab Dirk’s shirt, examine it, then turn to Karkat’s dresser.

“What are you doing?” he asks, as you root through a drawer. You stop at a dark red, long sleeved shirt.

“Wearin your shirt, cool?” you reply, not waiting for a response and pulling the shirt on over your head.

“Ah-” you look at Karkat. He flushes, looking away quickly; you smirk.

“Come on, we’ve got friends to kick out.” You tell him.

Downstairs, you are confronted with one large mess. People are strewn everywhere, some missing pieces of clothing. Vriska is the most notable; she’s completely naked and laying in a heap on the coffee table. Some kind soul has tossed her coat over her. Rose is already awake, sipping a mug of something hot in the green armchair that’s been shoved to the hallway entrance.

“Good morning,” she says, nodding with a smirk. You say nothing.

“What the hell happened?” Karkat asks, gazing in dismay at his living room.

“Halloween,” Rose simply replies. At her feet, Kanaya dozes quietly, leaning against the armchair. Her costume is still immaculate.

“Is that coffee?” someone –Terezi- mumbles from the couch. Then it’s like _Night of the Living Dead_ , as the zombies shamble around the small room in search of painkillers and stimulants. You fix yourself a bowl of cereal and watch them, perched on the stairs.

Karkat hovers around them all, like a mother hen. It’s adorable, frankly. He keeps pressing glasses and mugs into people’s hands, helping them find their clothes and cussing them out the whole time.

“Here,” you catch him in the kitchen, and pass him a mug of something that is half coffee, half sugar. He gives you a grateful look, then down the whole thing. You try not to stare at him in horror.

“Your arteries are going to get you for that, one day,” you tell him, taking the mug back.

“I do not fucking care, that was delicious.”

“That was pure sugar.”

“That’s what I said,” he grins wide, like a predator. You feel threatened.

“Help,” you call out to Dirk, who has just walked in. “I need an adult!”

“Sorry kid,” he grumbles, wearing his own shades now. “You’re on your own. I warned you about giving candy to strangers.” He digs around in the cabinets, finds whatever it was he was looking for, and leaves you to your own devices.

“He ripped my shirt,” you say in horror.

“You can keep mine, if you want,” Karkat shrugs, not looking at you. You turn and stare at him, eyebrows raised; he still doesn't meet you eyes.

“Someone’s got a possession kink,” you grin, relishing the way he blushes.

“Shut the fuck up, Strider,” he snarls.

“It’s alright,” you raise your hands, feigning innocence. “We’ve all got out kinks; hell, you can fuck me in the shirt if you want.” You have to dodge the pill bottle he tosses out you, ducking out of the kitchen to where Terezi and the others are arguing over who’s going to pay for the pizza they just ordered for breakfast.

Later that night, after everyone has cleared out, you make good on your suggestion.

 

 

==> Months in the future, but not many

Dave is perched on your lap, laughing.

“A toast!” You call out to the room at large, soothed by whatever was in the bottle Terezi handed you. You raise it above your head, nearly spilling it on your boyfriend.  “To Doc Scratch!”

“To Doc Scratch!” The room cheers. It’s the anniversary of the summer Doc Scratch, head counselor, finally lost it. At the time, none of you had realized the true nature of the games and activities you were forced into, until people started getting hurt. Then it quickly became apparent that Scratch was pitting you against each other- sometimes with deadly consequences. It was terrifying but you all made it out more or less okay. Sometimes you still have nightmares, but for the most part you’re fine. The worst is when people on the street stop and stare at you, recalling a news story they must have heard years and years ago. It’s fucking irritating as hell.

Now, you drink to the man. Without him you wouldn’t know most of the people in this room –it’s Terezi’s turns to host the party, vaguley Fourth-of-July themed, with much more red tha white or blue. There’s a pause in the noise as you all take a swig of your various beverages.

Dave strokes your hair absently, downing his beer. Then the room once again erupts into laughter and conversation.  

“How you doin?” Dave mumbles into your ear, ignoring the people around you.

“Shut the fuck up,” you tell him, only slurring a little. He laughs and you feel warm all over; you tell yourself it’s mostly the alcohol. You may or may not be lying.

 

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, you're all great human beings and you should be proud of yourselves.  
> I love you


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